


Gone, and a cloud in my heart

by theDah



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 09:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theDah/pseuds/theDah
Summary: Smiling sadly, Tomoe looked behind her and whispered: “Goodbye, my second love.”





	Gone, and a cloud in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Women of Rurouni Kenshin Week 2016, published in Tumblr at the time and now finally cross-posted here. :)
> 
> Women of Rurouni Kenshin Week, Day 5 - Tomoe  
> Prompt: Forgiveness  
> Characters: Tomoe Yukishiro, Kenshin Himura  
> Setting: Canon, the remembrance arc  
> Word count: 1084  
> Notes: Thank you @chierafied once again for fixing my grammar. Your kindness knows no limits. <3

Tomoe woke to a soft noise by her ear. She tensed and turned slowly to look, her eyes widening in surprise. Kenshin was sleeping beside her on the futon, curled on his side and snuffling gently in his sleep.

She blinked, utterly perplexed by the sight.

For all these months they had lived together, her husband had only been able to fall asleep when he had something solid against his back and his sword in his hands, and when was in a position to see all the exits of the room. It was the harsh aftereffect of his duties for the Ishin Shishi; he simply couldn’t relax enough to sleep when lying down.

Like her, everyone in the Choshuu rebels safe house had know it. Maybe that was why the Innkeeper Okami-san had only bothered to prepare one futon for them? Well that, and rebels’ not so subtle hints urging her to become closer to their assassin.

Tomoe sighed softly, turning to her side.

Kenshin’s long red hair fanned the sheets, framing his face. Her fingers itched to tuck his bangs behind his ear, to stroke the angry red line etched on his left cheek.

They said Akira’s sword had left that scar. That it was a mark of honor, a sign of his worth as a swordsman, because it was the only strike anyone had ever managed to land on the famous Battousai.

Yet, who could tell if dealing that blow had been worth it?

The Yaminobu had told her Akira’s death had been a particularly cruel one. For that one scratch, Kenshin had cut his left side open, all the way to his bowels. His guts sprawling in the mud, Akira had crawled forward, trying to get to his blade, only to be cut down again. Like a cat toying with its prey, Kenshin had prolonged her childhood friend’s and beloved fiancé’s suffering, finishing it by severing his spine when he was too far gone to scream any longer.

But right now, with his pretty face lulled by relaxation by sleep, and the faint, reddened marks of last night’s passion on his neck, Kenshin didn’t look at all like the fearsome murderer Hitokiri Battousai. Neither did he seem like the boy she had come to think he was, witnessing his silent suffering on those long nights in Kyoto: a youth caught in a trap and manipulated to do the politicians’ dirty work. No, on this quiet morning he was nothing but a handsome and kind young man she could be proud to call her husband.

Forgiveness was a strange thing, Tomoe mused in silence.

She had hated him fiercely, with all her heart and soul. Yet, now that the hate was gone, she felt empty. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but a strange one; as if someone had wrung all that hateful spite out of her like muddy water out of a dishrag.  

It didn’t hurt to look at his scar anymore.

Quietly, she traced the air over his cheek, wishing that her fingers’ shadows could wipe that scar away, or at least change it somehow. After all, Akira had been a kind and gentle man. If he had known what she knew now, he wouldn’t have cursed Kenshin to remember his mistakes every time he saw his reflection.

In these past few months, she had seen Kenshin’s shame and guilt, how torn he was by his role as an assassin. She had met his commander, Katsura-san, who ordered the Ishin Shishi’s strikes. She had seen and heard of the rebel’s conviction to fight against the Shogunate while serving their meals in the Choshuu’s safe-house. All of them believed that they fought for the greater good.

Who was she to say they were any more wrong than the Shogunate?

Perhaps, no one was right in this conflict.

Tomoe exhaled quietly and then carefully inched away from Kenshin, easing herself out of his embrace and from the warmth of the blanket. In the shadows of early morning, she gathered her clothes and dressed. How she managed it all without waking him, she wasn’t quite sure. She had never seen him sleep so peacefully, so unaware of the trap that had been laid out for him.

Yet, the time was running out.

The Yaminobu had caught her in their web, and if she didn’t go to them, who knew what they would do to her dear, foolish little brother? If only Enishi hadn’t followed her and repeated her mistakes. If only he had stayed at home in Tokyo, obscured by her rail of lies. If only there was a way out of this cesspit of deceit…

Tomoe closed her eyes, listening to Kenshin’s steady breaths.

If she said anything, anything at all – he would wake up.

He still had his sword. He still had his deathly grace, his uncanny skill. She had seen a glimpse of it when he had played with those neighborhood boys. Even two against one, he hadn’t had any trouble fending off their enthusiastic attacks. Was he skillful enough to defeat a group of ninjas?

Could she ask him to risk his life for her?

Did she have any right to hope he would save her, after she had wronged him so?

Tomoe looked aside, pain blooming in her chest.

If he saw her now, wearing her warmest clothes… he would question her until he found out the truth, the full extent of her lies and misdirection. Would he still be able to look at her so lovingly, if he knew how ugly and tainted she truly was? How she had promised to spy on him, to find his weaknesses in hopes to bring about his death?

Struggling to breathe, she ran her fingers along the spine of her diary. For months she had carried it in the folds of her kimono and written her thoughts on its pages.

Perhaps, if he read it, he could grow to forgive her in time…. just like she had forgiven him.

_Yes, it’s better this way._

Tomoe set her diary on the table where he would see it for sure. Then, she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and tiptoed to the door. She pulled on her clogs and quietly worked the door open. Outside the sun was shining brightly, fresh snow covering the hills around their little farm, their secluded paradise.

Smiling sadly, Tomoe looked behind her and whispered: “Goodbye, my second love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I admit I have always wondered why Tomoe went alone to the Yaminobu. After all, if Kenshin had known the truth, if they had been more forthright with each other, perhaps the tragedy could have been avoided. 
> 
> Tomoe’s guilt over her deception, the unyielding strength of her character and her honor as Samurai’s daughter… these are a few facets that I think could have explained her decisions.
> 
> Also, the title comes from this poem:  
> Gone — flitted away,  
> Taken the stars from the night and the sun  
> From the day!  
> Gone, and a cloud in my heart.  
> ~Alfred Tennyson


End file.
